Aaron Belisarius Cosimo Sibthorpe, a village school teacher who wrote the first history of Sierra Leone, was a man of mystery, a magus. So he seems to have seen himself. The dead, he wrote, have vanished into oblivion,Except the historian, that monarch of the past, using his noblest privileges, when he takes a survey of his dominions, has only to touch the ruins and dead bodies with his pen, in order to rebuild the palaces, and resuscitate the men. At his voice, like that of the Deity, the dry bones re-unite, the living flesh again covers them, brilliant dresses again clothe them; and in that immense Jehoshaphat (Joel iii, 2, 12), where the children of three thousand years are collected, his own caprice alone regulates his choice, and he has only to announce the names of those Maroons, or those Settlers he requires, to behold them start forth from their tombs, remove the folds of their grave-clothes with their own hands, and answer like Lazarus to our blessed Saviour, ‘Here am I, Lord! what dost thou want with me?’Here is a powerful, original image. The historian peremptorily calls up the dead from the “immense Jehoshaphat”—the valley where they all lie gathered together to await the judgment of God—choosing anyone he wants, and at his call they are obliged to rise and answer him obediently, as Lazarus answered Jesus. If only for this image Sibthorpe deserves our wonder and gratitude.